"To man, an operating machine is a staple; an achievement to look upon with a vast amount of pride. But these called men are not all men, so why claim so? Account all as majority, and you'll be left with lies."
2119 ex-CEO, Knox Industries.
"A fool once said that humankind is doomed to rot within the next decade. Although be true eventually, one can merely rust over the course of centuries with advanced technology. And that's the choice we strive to make available."
2019 CEO, Knox Industries.
"Is she sedated?" asked the female surgeon.
"As sedated as she'll ever be, Fae," replied the male surgeon. "Is her mind calibrated yet with the sentry?"
"Sterile as can be and ready to implant simulation number 6549-B."
At only 5'7", Fae wasn't exactly an intimidating-looking person. She has light brown skin and firey orange-like eyes; a glare could be fatal. Both of them wear silky white scrubs with a dull red lining, surgical masks and caps to shield their hair; high end to say the least. They both look down at an operating table, white sheet completely covering a body; seemingly that of a young child. A voice rang through the reflective glass cube chamber, which was only one of many dozen neatly and equally packed together within a colossal, grey-colored silo. It was a woman's voice and lacked any sort of distinct emotion. "Warning: unauthorized activity detected within a 100-mile radius of [Knox Industries.]"
"You kidding me? Again?," uttered Fae as she picked up an robotic iron arm, perfectly scaled to the body. "Scott. Check with security for a second. We don't want another fuckup."
Scott was a moderately sized, caucassian man, standing at about 6 feet and bore a decent build. His eyes were a dull green shade. He reaches for a panal to his left without immediately looking, gripping it for future reference as he messes with a laptop detailing schematics of the coming operation. He mutters a lazy "got it" in response. He soon turns his attention to the panal and establishes a connection.
"This is security; state your claim now," said a robotic voice.
"Security, this is Scott Hemmings. My collegue and I want to be updated."
"Please wait one moment, [Scott Hemmings] while we patch you through."
Moments passed of pure silence and awkward staring of one another. Fae's stance suggested that she wasn't to budge until she knew for sure they were safe; an overbearing fear of repitition. Suddenly there came a response. "Scott?" asked a male voice in a puzzled manner. "You want an update on what exactly?"
"The unauthorized activity; what's going on?"
"Unauthorized activity? What?"
Scott felt as if he were being treated as a fool; like his patience was being toyed with.
"You're a funny guy, okay? Ha ha. But we really want to know-"
"Look, Scott. Do you think I have time for jokes up here?" Fae's face grew a look of despair, as if a terrifying thought had burrowed its way into her head.
"Do you think I'm deaf?! We just heard an alarm of unauthorized activity 100 miles from the building!"
"Keep calm. Let me che-"
The voice of safety was soon interrupted. Static overtook the frequency.
Fae looked to Scott, fruitlessly trying to re-establish contact, and then to the others working around them. They seemed startled and lost; it was clear that some had even taken the same approach as Fae and Scott and were met with the same result. "What a junky piece of equipment, am I right?" asked Scott in a joking manner. He laughed awkwardly for a second, but was sure that he wasn't going to get anything out of her. Before he could speak again, he stopped himself as he saw Fae walk in a hasted fashion towards their patient. She grabbed the overhead fixture being supported by a mechanical, crane-like arm. She moves it towards the patient and pulls away the sheet just enough so she could see the child's scalp. It was layered with what seemed to be blond hair, parted down the middle suggesting that it ran down quite a ways. Near Fae was a terminal labled "SANDMAN-X13." She began it's operations; doing so opened a hatch on the fixture, designed to fit around a head like a helmet. "What's the rush, Fae?" asked Scott in a concerned manner. She looked to him with stressed anger, heart thumping and breath heavy. "Oh no. Not this again."
"They're coming for us again, Scott, I know it, it's Purist insurgents!" yelled Fae, noticably shaken. "I'm not losing another one; not like that again!"
"Christ's sake, woman. Do you think this is going to benefit the patient, huh? Doing an operation when you can't even focus?!"
"Shut up and help me godammit!"
"Not until you calm down, Fae! I will not put her in jeopardy because you can't get your shit together!" Fae took a deep breath, then exhaled with a calming silence following. She spoke up after a moment.
"Alright. Let's get it done."
Scott walked over to her and layed a hand upon her right shoulder. "Hey. We'll be alright," said Scott as he tried to console the poor woman. "If it makes you feel any better-" Scott pulled out a heavy .45 magnum from under his top and showed it to her. "We have one of these."
Fae nodded as her and Scott continued their process. The SANDMAN layed down on the girl's head, sealing itself tight around her skull. "Initializing dream number 6549-B," Fae announced.
"Antibodies ready to be injected," announced Scott as he removed an empty canister from the surgery table.
"Okay. Preparations complete. Time to get to work."
With that, Fae fully removed the sheet.
An alarm clock rings, 6 o' clock in the morning on the dot. A caucasian, blond-haired girl with beautiful, baby-blue eyes awakes at the immediate buzz. She sits herself straight and stretches her arms out upon a bed which looked to be that suited for royalty with red bedspread and a frame of gold. She stands herself up, wearing her striped blue pajama clothes, and parts away the red velvet curtains of the window. She gazes upon a beatiful rose garden. Spring had come around again for sure as each one held magnificent bloomers. This was like heaven, and she knew it to be unfamiliar.
A new day had just begun.